


I Feel The Power Within You

by Flying_without_wings, Melon_LeopardWarrior



Category: Carmilla (Web Series), Carmilla - J. Sheridan Le Fanu
Genre: F/F, Gruesome content, Minor Character Death, Other, Sorry Not Sorry, freakshow au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-11 19:39:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7067371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flying_without_wings/pseuds/Flying_without_wings, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melon_LeopardWarrior/pseuds/Melon_LeopardWarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world calls them "gifted individuals" with the "potential to live as society dictates" but when backs are turned and no one's watching the word "freak" is thrown around, labeling those different to them. </p><p>Carmilla Karnstein is apart of a glorified traveling freakshow, along with other "gifted individuals". Shunned by society and ridiculed for their differences, the freaks form an uneasy alliance and seek refuge in the freakshow where they serve as entertainers. However, when a young journalist by the name of Laura Hollis comes snooping around, the vile intentions of the show  owner comes to light. </p><p>When the veil between good and evil tears as a dark organisation wishes to purify the word, Laura will discover who she is and the freaks find out that their gifts were meant for something greater than simple magic tricks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You struck a match (and left me to burn)

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: IMPROPER USE OF PRONOUNS IN THE FIRST CHAPTER ONLY. WE BOTH RESPECT PREFERRED PRONOUNS, HOWEVER, FOR THE PURPOSE OF THIS STORY LAFONTAINE IS REFFERED TO AS SHE. THEY WILL ONLY BE ADDRESSED AS SUCH FOR THE SOLE PURPOSE OF CHARACTERISATION WITHIN THIS CHAPTER.
> 
> PLEASE Note that one of our characters' dialog is haunting so please forgive her English. Her speech is dynamic and you will get used to it. So enjoy! Comments and Kudos are highly appreciated.
> 
> Also: Welcome to the readers that remember myself and Wings from ff.net.

The wallpaper on the walls, once peeled from age, now bubbled from the heat and melted away. Lithe fingers once brushed against the bleak floral and melancholy paisley patterns of the décor before they allowed an ember to reduce these walls to ash. Painful memories and tears shed were slowly consumed by the carnivorous fire that roamed these halls in search of sustenance.

Long ago, Hill Shire mansion served as a home to the Spielsdorf family. The Spielsdorf’s were a tight knit family who did not concern themselves with the dramas of the outside world.

Founded by William Spielsdorf, seven generations of Spielsdorfs prior, Hill Shire once represented family and unity. However, now the gasoline drenched walls burned any hope of this.

  
Betty Spielsdorf, a quiet young woman at the age of eighteen, walked through these hallways as a child. Constantly roaming them in search of adventure. An adventure that would transport her to a world of fantasy and heroism.

Where fire represented life and she could control her urge to feel its warmth.

Where the word _freak_ would not be spat out at dinners and family lunches.

Where the doctors would stay out of her head and tell her she’s fine.

The reports would say: “A quiet girl at the age of eighteen, decided that today was the day she struck a match in her family’s mansion.”

She had walked the hallways of Hill Shire Mansion in search of a glimpse of a sign to make her forget this foolish endeavour.

Yet she found nothing.

She had looked up to the portrait that hung above the fire place and found herself staring back. Dead eyes gazed into the clear blue, searching for something, for anything.

Nothing.

She huffed and turned swiftly on her heel. Her shoes clicked against the polished floor. The sound echoed through the abandoned halls and rooms, as if it were searching for that “something” as well. It come back to her moments later having found nothing.

The box of matches sat on the kitchen but Betty simply leaned against the soaked walls and clicked her fingers. Friction caused a flame to ignite. The small flame, as big as her thumb, danced in the open air. Receiving the oxygen it craved, it grew.

Betty allowed the flame to engulf her hand and she lays it against the walls. Suddenly, the wall catches fire and it begins to spread throughout the house. Smiling to herself, Betty begins to make her way out the house and extinguishes the flame in her hand. As she exits through the large mahogany doors, a sleek black car pulls up in front of her and its wheels dig into the gravel below them.

Siding into the backseat, Betty glanced at the rear-view mirror. A man, large enough to break the logs in the south west garden, serves as the driver and lifts his head to presumably look back at her.

“When will I get the vial?” Betty questions.

“Soon. We just have one more thing to take care of.” His voice was unsurprisingly deep and he reached over to the glove compartment.

“What are y-”

A muffled shot rings out and the driver lowers the silenced weapon. He placed the gun back into the glove compartment and waited. A few minutes later, a phone rang. He reached into his breast pocket.

“It is done,” He answered, “I see no evidence of others.”

“Wait. They will come to us.” Came the answer.

\---

“My name is Carmilla Karnstein and your name is Danika Gray,” Carmilla states.

“My name is Danika Gray and you’re Carmilla Karnstein,” her own voice mimics.

“How did you sleep? Was it good or bad? Did you have any nightmares? Yes and no.”

“Sleep was good. No nightmares. How did you sleep? Any nightmares?” Her voice re-asks.

“Surprisingly none today, Dan. I’m trying those tablets Nate gave me.”

“Nate? Surprisingly.”

This was common practise between them lately. Sitting, cross legged, and facing each other in the early morning just talking in their large shared tent. Danika has been getting better, her words can change pitch and tone now. Carmilla remembers the first time they met, when Danika could only repeat spoken words back to you with your own voice.

The cold morning air drifted into the tent and Carmilla feels her skin prickle in response. Puffs of breath, shown visibly now, exit their mouths as they speak.

“Don’t start with me now. Dan, you know he’s a good guy for taking us in. Because you know the show isn’t that bad, it’s either the show or the streets, which do you prefer? Isn’t been with people like you nicer? Instead of normal people? Freaks stick together.” This has also been common practise between them lately. They fight about the show more regularly now.

“He’s a good guy? The show is bad, freaks don’t stick together because of normal people. Prefer to be normal, normal people stick together.” Carmilla’s mimicked voice lowers an octave at the end.

“We are not normal Danika! If we were, you would speak and I wouldn’t have to-”

“We were normal!” The mimic cuts her off.

Carmilla huffs. The show starts in two hours and they are not even dressed for it yet. Carmilla doubts Danika has even thought about her act for tonight.

“What’s your act?” Carmilla asks quickly before mentally chiding herself. Danika needs words to manipulate and Carmilla forgot to add “yes or no” at the end. Oh well too late now.

  
Luckily, Danika just shrugs. Her metallic eyes dance around the room before landing on the small mirror on the wooden vanity. She crawls across the floor to the vanity and grabs the mirror. She looks at her reflection and places a hand on her face. Blonde hair frames an angular face. Carmilla watches from across the room, Danika does this in order to remember who she is. Voicing words that are not your own and using a voice that originally did not belong to you eventually makes you forget who you are. The mirror serves as a reminder.

The door bursts open to reveal a slightly dishevelled Perry. The mystic has a habit of checking up on the two girls before a performance almost like a mother checking up on her children.

“Carmilla! Danika! You girls aren’t even dressed! Danika, your performance is up soon! LaFontaine is already outside the performers’ tent. Hurry up child! Carmilla come with me.” She rushes off, leaving the two slightly confused girls.

“Coming Mom, Dan behave.” Carmilla teases. Danika looks at her, then to the door. She slowly pulls her eyes back to Carmilla and sticks her tongue out. “Behave.”

“Who me? Always. Laters cutie”

\------

Nathan loves the show. He lives for the applause and the performances. He prides himself in taking good care of his performers. They were the ones who made him rich after all.

“Nathan’s magical traveling circus” is home to freaks and outcasts alike.

He hears the ringmaster’s voice boom from within the performers’ tent. Nathan prefers his freaks to perform and not be kept behind glass and cages. He has found that it keeps them happy and he faces less inhumane accusations that way. What is good for the performers is good for him and his pocket.

He spots LaFontaine waiting outside the performers’ tent, waiting for her act to begin. She is talking animatedly to someone hidden behind one of the old ticket trailers. He approaches her and her friend and finds the other person is none other than the Mockingbird, Danika Gray. A real money maker and a fan favourite. The audience finds her ability “remarkable” and “amazing”, Nathan finds it to be a real pain in his arse.

“Hello ladies,” he says and LaFontaine visibly tenses, Nate pretends not to notice, “Gettin’ ready for another performance are we? You girls doing a performance together? Doing that glowing act with the Mockingbird over here?”

“Doing a performance together. Doing a Mockingbird act together.” Danika answers in his deep voice. It seems strange for a beautiful girl like her to produce such a gruff voice, but Nathan has become accustomed to the freakish nature of Danika.

“Alright, you ladies enjoy your performance.”

LaFontaine nods and ducks into the opening in the back of the tent. A few moments later the ringmaster announces her and the audience cheers.

“Not going in with her, Bird? LaFontaine sure has the audience excited. Hasn’t she? They love her.” Nathan laughs out. Danika starts to make her way towards the opening before pausing. She turns and looks back at Nathan with a scowl.

“LaFontaine, not her. They, not her.” Nathan frowns at the manipulation of his words. Sometimes, only on rare occasion, Nathan cares about what the freak says.  
This is not one of those rare occasions.

\----------

Sometime in the late afternoon, Carmilla peers into the performers’ tent and spots the others setting up for the show to come. This will be their final show before they head to Styria.  
Carmilla dips out of the tent and briskly walks to Perry’s tent. The mystic has many charms placed around its entrance and Carmilla tries to avoid knocking them as she enters.

“Have you rubbed yourself down with the oil I gave you?” Perry asks as she sits on a makeshift cot. The tent’s interior is strangely simple. A turnip crate serves as a bedside table and candles illuminate the space.

“Yes.” Carmilla replies. Perry raises an eyebrow and stares blankly at Carmilla. Her unruly red hair seems to have been flattened during the course of the day.

“Carmilla, darling, the transformations will hurt more if you don’t. You know that.” Perry rises and steps toward Carmilla to place her hands firmly on Carmilla’s shoulders. Perry inhales and closes her eyes. She can feel it, the ebb and flow of Carmilla’s power. It almost feels feral and sated at the same time. A constant juxtaposition within her.

“Please Carmilla. The marks were almost permanent last time.” Her voice is a soft whisper.

Kirsch uses this opportunity to barge in and demand for Carmilla’s accompaniment. She nods and quickly pulls Perry in for a hug before she follows the ringmaster out. The mystic relishes in the power that rolls of Carmilla in waves before the girl leaves. Perry doubts the young woman’s understanding of her gift and the power she holds, but she is here to guide her through this.

When Carmilla leaves, Perry reaches under the cot and blindly searches for a small box. The box she pulls out is small and clad in leather. Inside, a small pendant rests against soft fluff. When the time is right she will return the pendant to its rightful owner, but for now she will keep it and its potential power safe.


	2. Break my bones (So I can feel them healing)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cold chill in the air brings ill tidings and Carmilla's gift is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, Wings here. Finally we are allowed to witness Carmilla's gift. Melon and I have agreed to dedicate this chapter to Lamparcik (see end notes as to why). This chapter was difficult to write towards the end, so I hope I did it justice. We really want to show the bond between Perry and Carmilla because it is not common in other fics so don't be alarmed. Laura will arrive soon and she has a mention in this chapter. Enjoy and please don't forget to comment and leave kudos.

She can hear the crowd inside the tent more clearly now. Their laughter and cheers break through the performers’ tent and dance in the breeze around camp, filling the ears of every worker and performer on the grounds. The moon hangs overhead, demanding silence but none obey.

Carmilla often imagined herself among the crowd, cheering for all the performers doing their acts and demonstrating their gifts. Her pockets would be filled with coins, clinking together as she laughed and cheered in the crowd. Being one of them, being normal, is all she could ever desire.

Normality has never been something Carmilla was accustomed to. Living with the circus for as long as she has would make anyone forget about the world outside the circus. What is outside the circus? Freedom? The circus is safe, it has been her home for as long as she can remember.

They have been in Styria for a few days now. The warm sun and cold breeze is something to become accustomed to but other than that, Styria is a pleasant place to be. A lot of open spaces and the merchants that arrive at the camp often have items good enough to buy. Things such as odd trinkets and fresh fruits and sweet treats.

Carmilla’s stomach growls at the thought. Looking around, she spies LaFontaine sitting with a few others around an impressive fire. In their hands they hold a plate of cooked meat and bread.

“You should have seen that girl! Poking her nose in my things! Asking me questions I wouldn’t even dare ask my dear departed mother!” Armitage, one of the workers, throws his hands in the air almost hitting Carmilla as she approaches the group.

“Aye! Lass also came into my tent, asking mi boys if they been looked after here. What nerve does she ‘ave coming here, asking ‘em questions? We would be skinned alive if Nathan found out ‘bout ‘er.”

Carmilla takes a seat on a log by the fire next to LaFontaine and looks toward the man who just spoke. “What are you blundering on about now?”

“Some girl came here today claiming she was a reporter. Asking some serious questions, ones that could get us into trouble for answering.” Armitage speaks up. Everyone murmurs in agreement and nod their heads appropriately. LaFontaine passes Carmilla a plate of food before speaking up. “Did you see the look on her face when she first spoke to Danika? Danika had just spoken to Kirsch so you can imagine what her voice sounded like. Poor girl didn’t know what hit her. I was barely able to stop myself from laughing,” Lafontaine’s face scrunches up as they impersonate the girl, “‘Sorry Miss…Hi, ma’am…whoa, n-n-not a ma’am. I’m so terribly, _terribly_ sorry.’”

All the people burst out laughing at the image of the small girl being frightened half to death. A few even spill their drinks and double over, wiping at the tears that form in their eyes.

Carmilla, frowning slightly, looked at the performers and workers. "You all saw her?" Those who could, nodded slightly while the others continued to laugh. "I never saw her." It came out sounding more of disappointment than as a mere statement.

Carmilla took a bite of hard bread and chewed, keeping a permanent scowl on her face as she did so. "Is someone brooding? I feel like my brooding senses are tingling right now. Is someone disappointed that she never got to see the small journalist?" LaFontaine asked around a mouthful of bread.

“No.”

“Is someone lying?”

“Refer to me as _‘someone’_ one more time and I will make you eat your own tongue, Nerd.”

LaFontaine opens their mouth to give a witty comment before Armitage cuts them off. “I hear you’re doing the afternoon show tomorrow Carmilla. Have any interesting tricks planned?” LaFontaine looks angry for a moment before they simply give up and carry on eating.

Carmilla chooses to ignore the word ‘tricks’ and starts ranting about her spectacular idea for a new act she has been wishing to do for quite some time. Everyone’s eyes widen and the meals on their laps become long forgotten while Carmilla discloses her act to them all. When she is finished describing her act, everyone looks at her in disbelief.

“No, that’s impossible. You’re going to kill yourself.” One states.

“It simply can’t be done.” Another says.

“Wow” “It would be spectacular.”

 _Yes_ , Carmilla muses to herself, _it would be_.

______

 

“You’re going to do _what?”_ Perry seems to be less impressed with the idea. They are currently in Carmilla’s tent before the afternoon show. Carmilla is trying to fix her outfit by preventing it from greasing up. She has already rubbed her body down with Perry’s oil, now smelling of rosemary and mint, which is causing her outfit to sit uncomfortably now that her skin has begun to hum. The subtle buzz has increased since the last time she used the oil and it feels as if her skin was alive in a sense that it had its own mind.

Perry paces to and fro in the little space the tent provides. Her unruly ginger curls, which are escaping a magenta cowl, bounce lightly as she steps. With her hands waving back and forth, she curses to heavens above pleading them to change Carmilla’s mind.

“Carmilla, darling. Listen, using your gift for more than five minutes will do serious harm to your body. To do this act- Carmilla think of something else, _please_.” The pacing stops and her eyes meet Carmilla’s, pleading her to think of something else. Carmilla looks away and shakes her head softly, “No, I’m doing it. They came to see wild animals become tamed. So that’s what we will do.”

“And if you fail? Think of the risk!” Carmilla rolls her eyes. She knows Perry is just trying to look out for her, but honestly? Carmilla barely worries about the risk anymore and besides, failure is not an option.

A figure hovers outside the tent and clears their throat. “Carmilla,” the voice belongs to Kirsch, “you’re up.” He hangs around for a moment before walking off. Carmilla nods at nothing and stops fiddling with her outfit. Perry huffs loudly causing Carmilla to turn her attention towards her.

“No more than five minutes.” Perry pleads softly, looking at Carmilla. Carmilla closes the distance between them in three steps and pulls Perry into a hug. Carmilla’s power hits Perry as soon as she returns the hug and she immediately relishes in it. They stand there for a few seconds before Carmilla pulls away, clears her throat and practically runs out of her own tent.

Perry chuckles softly to herself and makes her way to her own tent. As she steps out of the tent, the sun’s rays hit her with a blinding force. The warmth from the rays are battered away by the chill in the wind. She can feel it, trouble has rested itself on the back of the cold air and it waits patiently to strike.

\--------

The audience takes their seats on the wooden benches with their drinks and snacks in hand. Children laugh and hold large reals of candyfloss while their parents chat idly with other people in the crowd while they wait for the show to begin. A moment later Kirsch appears, dressed in his pristine ringmasters uniform donning the show’s badge and logo, he indicates for the audience to settle down and take their seats. A few murmurs are heard before he raises his hands for silence.

“Welcome all to Nathan’s Magical Traveling Circus,” Kirsch’s loud voice bounces off the interior walls of the tent, “ Today’s show consists of acrobatics, wild animals, people with mysterious gifts and various other acts. Allow us to start off with a combination of wild animals and the mysteriously gifted, after all that _is_ why you are all here today.”

He raises his left arm for a split second and a door opens to reveal Carmilla dressed in a royal blue Persian styled outfit. Her mouth is covered by a transparent blue material, allowing her golden rimmed eyes to be shown. Her bare feet pad lightly over the hay covered ground to the middle of the ring and the multiple bells on her outfit ting slightly as she walks. Kirsch nods in her direction as she approaches, “Carmilla Karnstein ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. Prepare to witness the fascinating gift this young lady possesses. Please remain seated and enjoy”

He leaves and Carmilla is now the centre of attention. All eyes are on her and she can feel the gazes burning into her. The air is cold and her exposed midriff chills slightly. Instruments begin to play off at a distance and Carmilla allows her body to glide to the soft rhythm that they create. The dancing serves as a distraction as she gets her body for what's to come. As the crowd starts to become restless, Carmilla uses this an opportunity to signal to the players to speed up the tempo. They get the message and the music becomes faster paced and her movements shift to match.

Finally she can feel her body hum in appreciation as she dances. The instrument players see the change and they stop playing altogether. As the music stops, Carmilla drops to the floor. The instruments pick up a heartbeat rhythm and her body rises and falls to the beat of the simulated heart. Whispers in the crowd become sharp gasps as they begin to witness the change.

Carmilla’s back arches and forces her to rest on her knees. Her body begins to contort and her skin feels as if it were on fire. The sound of bones snapping causes a few distressed cries from the audience but none leave their seats, they sit and watch in awe as the young woman before them slowly breaks.

Carmilla’s bones snap and rearrange themselves, causing Carmilla to hunch over. The skin on her exposed back, now visibly shown to the audience in her new position, begins to tear and melt away to reveal matted black fur. Her shoulders span out and her spine rises, allowing for the growth of her ribs. The fur spreads along her arms and to her fingers, which are now dug firmly into the hay below her, and her entire body becomes covered in this black mass.

She throws her head back to reveal the beginnings of a muzzle. Her eyes have turned an almost golden colour and her pupils have become narrow slits. Her bones continue to rearrange themselves and her hands now resemble paws. The audience continues to witness her transformation from woman to beast in pure amazement.

She rises on her hands and knees as they re-shape themselves to suit the appearance of a four legged beast. Her ears become darker and turn up into a point. After a few quiet moments it is clear that her bones have ceased snapping and reassembling and Carmilla just sits there as a mass of considerable size and black fur. Her body still shakes but the pain is minimal thanks to the oil.

The audience continue to gawk as she tries to control her shaking. A small boy in the front row, the only one of the children in the audience brave enough to look up from behind his mother’s hand, stares at the creature before him.

“She’s a _cat_ ,” he says in glee, “she’s a giant black cat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. That was intense and interesting to say the least. We have dedicated this chapter to Lamparcik because of their comment of Carmilla's ability to shapeshift. So congratulations on that and we hope you enjoyed the last past. 
> 
> Please leave a comment and tell us what you think. If you have any theories, please let us know. Also, we love to here about what you like to see in future chapters. New ideas are always good ideas.


	3. I whisper truce (As ashes hit the ground)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens if it is more than just five minutes?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, Wings here again. I’ve got the next few chapters because Melon has work commitments and what-not, so here is the long awaited chapter. Thank you for all of your comments and kudos, we highly appreciate the praise and love you are giving to this story.  
> Enjoy and let us know what you think

Before them sits a large feline, a void of black fur, gazing at them with unblinking golden eyes. Her tail flicks behind her as she hesitantly rises. The crowd remains silent, those sitting closest to the ring sit with their mouths agape and some stare forward in awe.

Camilla can feel it scurrying around in her head. The beast, persistently gnawing at her mind, wishing to claim it.

To claim _her_.

She pushes the feeling as far back in her mind as she can and flicks her tail.

The boy, who had pointed out her change, is leaning over the barriers of the ring to get a closer look. His combed brown hair remains in a fixed position even though his whole body contorts awkwardly to climb onto the waist high barriers.

Carmilla slowly makes her way to the boy. Her paws push into the hay under her as she tries to become accustomed to walking on four legs again. The boy’s attitude shifts and he leans away as she reaches the barrier. Carmilla dips her head and lowers it before him. The audience watches in amazement as the boy leans towards her and carefully raises his right hand to softly stroke her head.

His hand moves gently as he rubs. Small fingers tenderly massage the woolly head and a purr resonates deep from within Carmilla. She allows the boy to pet her for a few moments before she pulls back with a shake of her head. The boy smiles and retakes his seat in the front row before a person in the back stands and begins to clap. A few others join her and eventually every person in the crowd is on their feet and applauding the animal before them.

Carmilla walks back to the centre of the ring and waits patiently for Kirsch to arrive. The applause dies out as Kirsch enters the ring, along with an older man holding a whip in his left hand. The clock begins its countdown.

_Four minutes remaining._

\--------

Laura Hollis sits on a wooden chair in the Mystics tent waiting for Lola Perry to arrive. The small girl idly plays with her hands and bites her lower lip anxiously. She is here because, as a journalist, things demand the attention of the public. Dangerous dealings, poisonous politicians and rustic recipes are often the only articles the young journalist finds herself writing.

She craves adventure and excitement, plus helping people has always been a priority to the small girl. This article is destined to be her magnum opus, her big break in journalism. The people of Styria need to know of the cruelty and mistreatment of the performers at this “circus”. She will expose Nathan Cortez to Styria and the world. All she needs is the evidence to put this man out of business for good.

The bead curtain jingles behind her as Perry enters. The woman takes a seat across from Laura and places her hands on the table between them. The multiple charms strung around her wrists rattle together as she gestures for Laura to give her, her hands.

Laura places her own hands in Perry’s on the table. Closing her eyes, Perry begins to hum a soft tune as she holds Laura’s hands. The wind blows in and rattles the multiple charms strung around the small tent.

“I can hear… nothing but I can see a silhouette. A young girl, reaching towards something that isn’t there. Another person perhaps? I see another figure, a woman’s figure, surrounded by a blinding light. I cannot see her face, it’s as if I am being prevented from seeing it. I can hear water running and a man laughing. It is a boisterous laugh but I can tell it is genuine. Your father perhaps? A man with greying blond hair and a five o’clock shadow.”

Laura nods. Perry’s face scrunches up but her eyes remain closed. “Oh darling. I can feel all the hurt and pain you had as a child,” Perry’s face relaxes and her mouth pulls up into a smile, “but I can see your passion for writing and discovering the truth. Your mother read to you when you were younger, stories about good deeds and bravery. You miss her. I can feel that too, it pulls at your heart every day.”

Perry opens her eyes and releases Laura’s hands from her own. The small girl puts her hands in her previous position and stares at her lap. _Had she been that easy to read? Or was Perry better than she was lead to believe?_

“Why are you really here, Laura? I know you aren’t just here for a reading, what has actually brought you here?” Perry leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. Her hair lays limp and her brows are furrowed. She seems tired, even more so now after reading Laura.

Laura sighs. “I’m here to just here to-”

A scream pierces the air and cuts Laura off. The sound was carried by the wind and brought to the two women through the open doorway of the tent. Laura, having spun in her chair, turns back towards Perry only to see the woman’s blood drained face and widened eyes. Laura, genuinely concerned, opens her mouth to speak but no sound can be formed before another scream interrupts the small girl with enough force to make blood curdle.

\-----------

Carlos, the man with the whip, bows before the audience. His attire resembles that of a matador with the white and gold trim complimenting his bronzed skin. He runs along the barrier and leans over to talk to the audience. They laugh together at what he said but all Carmilla can hear is muffled voices over the restlessness of the crowd.

They laugh and cheer for him as he parades in front of the ring with his whip. Carmilla still sits in the centre, waiting for this man to finish his introduction and begin the performance. She jumps slightly as Carlos cracks his whip at nothing, he does it twice more and laughs, inciting the audience and they laugh along with him.

He runs his hands through his greying hair and smiles at them. He turns toward Carmilla and bows before her. Carmilla returns it with a small nod and he smiles at her before turning to the audience. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” many years training in Spain left him with a thick accent, “allow me to introduce myself. I am Carlos, the best animal tamer and trainer this circus has ever known. Today I will be assisting my feline companion with various tricks around the ring.”

A few circus workers walk in, carrying hoops and boxes big enough for a cat to jump through or sit on them respectively. They set up an obstacle course toward the back of the ring, giving the audience full view of the set up. The hoops are hoisted into the air then set alight. The sound of the flames licking at the oxygen is all that is heard as the audience stares in bewilderment.

_Three and a half minutes remaining_.

Carlos walks to the first box and taps it gently with his foot. Carmilla obeys and jumps up onto the lowest box. Her massive paws grip at the edges and her unsheathed claws dig into the hard wood. Carlos turns to the musicians from earlier and signals them to begin beating on their drums. A soft rhythm begins as Carlos cracks his whip signalling for Carmilla to begin.

The first few jumps onto the boxes prove to be less of a challenge than Carmilla had expected but as soon as the first fire hoop comes up, Carmilla hesitates. The heat from the fire is hot enough to be felt at a distance and the smell of singed fur is off-putting. The feline braces herself before jumping through the flames. Luckily, her body barely comes into contact with the fire and she jumps through with ease. The audience applauds her as she continues to traverse through the course. When the course is complete she sits at Carlos’s feet and waits for her next command.

_Two minutes remaining_.

Carlos checks his pocket watch and gauges the amount of time needed for the next act. He glances at Carmilla and shakes his head. They will not have enough time.

Carmilla nods in understanding but growls softly. Carlos looks into her eyes to find them pleading with him to do the next act. Carlos quickly nods his head before addressing the audience.

“Now, for our next trick, we will be attempting a balancing act. Carmilla will balance on this ball,” the workers roll in a black ball with the diameter of the length of a motorbike, “without any assistance from myself and to add to the difficulty, she will be blindfolded.”

Carlos places a material band across Carmilla’s large head to cover her eyes. The ball is rolled towards her and she can hear it until it is stopped right in front of her. Carlos cracks his whip and Carmilla climbs onto the round object, careful not to unsheathe her claws and puncture the plastic ball. The ball wobbles beneath her as she clambers onto it. She steads herself and, at the sound of Carlos’s whip, rolls the ball forward while remaining on top of it to demonstrate her balance on the rotating object. The audience applauds when the ball ceases its motion before Carlos’s whip is heard for the second time, silencing them. At the sound, Carmilla pulls the ball backwards but remains on the ball.

The crowd applauds and whistles at her demonstration of impeccable balance. Carlos cracks his whip one last time and Carmilla raises herself onto her hind legs to stand on the ball. Her legs shake but the ball does not move or roll. She eventually stands securely on the ball and raises her paw.

The crowd goes wild. The whistling grows louder and the applause increases. A few stand to congratulate the feline on her unique trick and Carlos bows.

_One minute remaining_.

Carmilla can feel her animalistic side approach as she lowers herself down. The natural urge to attack any close threat is growing and her attempts to push it aside are failing. Carmilla begins swishing her tail to signal to Carlos that she has to leave immediately but he is too focused on the crowd’s praise to notice.

_Thirty seconds remaining_.

“Thank you! Our next act will be here shortly.” Carlos spins on his heel and scans the area for Carmilla. He spots her cowering on the floor with her claws scrapping the floor beneath them. Carlos carefully approaches Carmilla. Her ears lay flat against her head, her teeth are bared and her eyes are screwed shut.

He reaches into his pockets and pulls out a small vile of bronze liquid. He pops of the cap and lathers his hand in the rosemary smelling oil. He drops to his knees in front of her to run his hand over her muzzle. Carmilla relaxes and her eyes open. Her pupils are diluted, her body is trying to make the change but the animal is fighting. If this continues, her body with be ripped apart.

Carlos helps her to stand and walks alongside the large feline as they make their way out of the tent. Carmilla needs to get to her tent before she can change back. She needs the oil to prevent her body from being torn between her animal form and her human one.

_Ten seconds remaining_.

Carmilla breaks away from Carlos’s side and bounds to her tent, pushing past everyone who gets in her way. She runs into Kirsch, knocking him over and causes him to land in the dirt. He immediately scrambles up and chases after her alongside Carlos. Lafontaine sees them all chasing after a feline Carmilla and drops the multiple test tubes of experiments to rush after Carmilla, fearing for the worst.

Carmilla stumbles into her tent and drops onto the hard floor in front of her bed. Danika, who was reading on the opposite bed, jumps up and starts rummaging in Carmilla’s bedside drawer. The sound of bones snapping and shifting draws her attention back to Carmilla, who is now writhing in pain as her body shifts back.

Lafontaine, Kirsch and Carlos all arrive together and stop dead in the doorway to witness the most horrific sight they have ever seen. On the floor lies a half shifted Carmilla covered in fresh blood and bruised skin. As her body contorts and rearranges, her skin slowly replaces fur. Angry red gashes are left on her body as she shifts, the five minutes long past, and the pain comes along with them. Carmilla screams as all the pain from the transformation before hit’s her hard and fast. Danika finds the oil in the glass vial but it is too late. A fully shifted Carmilla lays on the floor, unmoving and naked, covered in blackened bruises and deep cuts.

The pain finally becomes too much and Carmilla finds herself slipping away. She opens her mouth to say something to Danika before she passes out but all that comes out is a second scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. There it is. No more than five minutes or this happens. It broke my heart to put Carmilla in pain but I write what the plot demands for. Hopefully it was an interesting and fruitful move on my part and you (the readers) enjoyed it. Let us know what you think by leaving a comment because I must admit, the comments are often the highlight of my day. 
> 
> Unfortunately, the next update might be a bit late because I have a Design final to do next week (72 hours of just art) so I do apologise but I promise that the chapter will be lengthy to make up for it.


	4. If I loose control (I feed the beast within)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carmilla dreams and we get a gruesome glimpse of her past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wings here and welcome to another chapter. Ah, it seems we have hit a dry spell. Please don't be shy to comment or kudo. We don't bite (much). 
> 
> Warning this chapter is graphic and gruesome, you have been warned. Also, the words in italics are part of the flashback, but don't worry, I have indicated the time change. Unbeta'd.

The hunger becomes unbearable. The constant need for sustenance creates an animalistic constitution within Carmilla. She draws a sharp breath and tries to calm her nerves as she walks through the woods surrounding the circus. Birds sing in the trees towering overhead, squirrels dig around in the undergrowth and a stag grazes a few paces in front of her. His magnificent antlers knock against a nearby tree.

  
Carmilla runs her hands along her bare arms, feeling the goose flesh ripple along them. The stag raises his head and looks directly at Carmilla. His eyes bore right into her soul, looking directly at the beast that dwells there. Carmilla laughs when the stag dashes off into the bulk growth of the woods.

  
The game has begun.

  
Carmilla drops low and crouches. Her body begins the transformation, bones shift and muscles tear only to rearrange themselves. Outstretched arms become enlarged and skin strips away to reveal dark fur. Her body, no longer a feminine form of a human, becomes a grotesque mass of nothing but black fur. The sound of bones breaking and rearranging disturbs the animals in the woods, they scatter and run. Now a recognisable form of a panther, Carmilla lunges into the open air and chases after the frightened stag.

  
Dark fur brushes against the rough bark as she moves through the trees with feline grace. Her body moves as a rapid blur in the woods. Paws squelch into the wet mud as Carmilla stalks the stag. She can see him, dodging and jerking wildly as he tried to get away from the beast Carmilla has become.

  
He miscalculates a leap and catches his hoof on a raised tree root causing him to crash into a clearing in the woods. He scrambles to get up but Carmilla quickly descends upon the fallen animal. The panther smiles wickedly as she opens her muzzle to reveal a large set of gleaming canines, ready to tear into the struggling animal. The scent emanating off of the stag invites Carmilla to sink her teeth into his waiting flesh, he smells like dampened wood and the warmth from the sun.

  
The stag accepts his fate, no longer struggling, he twists his head to stare bravely into the panther’s hungry eyes.

  
As she leans in to bite the stag’s jugular in order to end the poor creatures fight, a voice in the forest stops her. A woman’s voice echoes in the tops of the trees calling out to Carmilla. The voice, honey glazed, drew Carmilla’s teeth away from the stag. He struggles out from under Carmilla and dashes off with his hind covered in claw marks.

  
In a trance like state, Carmilla looks around for the source of the voice. A girl, not much younger than Carmilla is in her human form, steps out from the surrounding growth and walks, almost goddess like, towards Carmilla. Her hair shines in the sun creating a halo of golden light around her head.

  
She walks up to Carmilla and stands before the large animal. Carmilla, now sitting on the dew covered grass, towers over the small human. The girl raises her hands to Carmilla’s face and rests her forehead against the felines. Their eyes close in sync and the world slows down, only allowing for their hearts to beat in unison.

  
The hunger fades away as the small human holds Carmilla’s face against hers. The need is replaced by the ultimate feeling of tranquillity and peace. The girl smells of warm chocolate and golden sunshine. Her hands are warm as they begin to tread through the soft tuffs of fur under the feline’s impressive jaw.

  
The small human opens her eyes and pulls her face away from Carmilla in order to look the panther in the eyes, searching them. The girl opens her mouth and her voice invades Carmilla’s ears again.

  
“Wake up.”

* * *

 

Carmilla’s skin burns when she opens her eyes. The fire spreads up along her ribs and bites into her shoulders as she breathes in. The pain gnaws at her, numbing her skin. The subtle jolts of pain fade as her body numbs completely, giving over to the pain.

  
She can still feel the girl’s hands on her face, running along her jaw. The smell of warm chocolate lingers in her nose every time she inhales and Carmilla wishes to immerse herself back into her dream were her hunger is subsided because of a human. The girls face is a blur but her voice still rings in Carmilla’s ears.

  
The air is cold, cooling the beads of sweat gathered on her exposed collarbone. Carmilla sits up and looks around. She recognises her surroundings as Perry’s personal tent. The moon’s silver beams of light shine through gaps of the tent allowing Carmilla to make out basic shapes. The sky is dark and the air is silent.

  
Carmilla swings her legs out of bed and places her bare feet on hard ground. The coldness of the floor nips at the soles of her feet. The thin material of her shirt ruffles as the air swirls around the tent.

  
She tries to recall what happened before she found herself here. Pain sears through her body as an aftershock to serve as a reminder. Her body remembers the contracting of exhausted limbs and the feeling of skin being torn from it. Perry must be furious, sitting somewhere with a frown, that she knows all too well, with mixture of disappointment and relief that Carmilla is breathing again.

  
Carmilla sits there, in the dark, reminiscing of the days before Perry found her. The days when ‘freak” was an unknown term and “savage” was appropriate with regards to a younger Carmilla.

* * *

  
_**5 years ago** _

_Date: Unknown._

_Location: Unknown._

_Owner: Rush Circus._

_Form: Animal._

_Mental State: ~~Slightly unstable~~ Broken._

  
_The air smells of copper. The strong metallic taste left in Carmilla’s mouth, sour and flat. She hears them at first, as the snippets of broken words reach her ears._ Broken _… Broken like her. Carmilla’s body can no longer hold itself together. Her eyes are pinched shut and her head lies against the steel floor of her cage._

  
_Her body aches. The whip left deep lacerations across her ribs and her hind legs. She can still hear his laugh._

  
_He laughed as his whip bit into her._

  
_He_ laughed _as her back legs went lame._

  
_He_ **laughed** _when his steel tipped boot smashed into her skull._

  
_She hates his laugh. She hates the way he turns to the audience to rile them up before his whip graces her skin and she hates the way his fingers comb in her fur. He enjoys dragging his fingers through her filthy fur when she is too weak to fight back._

  
_He owns her._

  
_She had tried to bite his exposed hand once but all she gained from that was a broken front leg and a shattered paw. He laughed after he did that to her too._

  
_A steel rod runs along the cage followed by the smell of decomposing meat. The stench is enough to make Carmilla sick but the hunger takes over her body. The last meal she ate was weeks ago and her skin is hanging off her body, exposing her bones. Her once black fur has turned to a charcoal grey due to the lack of nutrition._

  
_The circus hand, a young boy, holds a medium sized bowl in his trembling hand. The bowl houses the remains of an unfortunate animal, small in size and the meat is spoiled past three days. The sour smell alone will prove to upset Carmilla’s stomach for the weeks to come but her body is too weak to fight the hunger gnawing at her. The boy seems to have abandoned the rod on the floor and jingles a set of keys in his hand._

  
_The boy opens a hatch along the side the cage to slip the bowl into it. He ends up throwing the bowl into the opening and slams it shut. He picks up the metal rod from before off the floor and beats the cage. Carmilla lifts her body to shuffle towards the bowl on the other side of the cage._

  
_Before she reaches her destination her legs give way from under her and she collapses within arm’s reach of the metal bowl. Carmilla tries to rise again but her body would not allow it. The boy stands by impatiently, waiting for the feline to eat. He sticks the steel rod through the bars of the cage and gently prods Carmilla._

  
_“Get up Cat.” His voice comes out strong but his eyes tell a different tale. His eyes have softened and droop slightly as he prods her with the rod. Circus life breaks the soft hearts of humans, this boy is a prime example._

  
_“Eat._ **Eat!** _” He screams at her. The rod waivers as his body shakes violently. Carmilla tries again but fails spectacularly when she crashes into the hard floor of her cage. The boy jumps when her body bangs back into the ground._

  
_He pulls the rod out between the cage and walks around the cage to the door hidden in its skeletal frame. He pulls the latch up and opens the door, steps in and then closes it behind him. He holds the rod like a spear and crouches to be able to walk in the small cage over to the shrunken form of the once large cat._

  
_Carmilla pays him no mind, she silently wishes for him to sink the pointed end of the rod into her and end her miserable existence. He timidly walks to the bowl and picks up the decayed meat. The boy scrunches his face at the smell and holds it away from him towards the cat. He wiggles it in her face and holds it by her mouth. Carmilla obeys and opens her mouth to allow him to place the meat in her mouth. As she chews, the boy picks up the next piece and waits patiently for Carmilla to open her mouth again. They continue like this, eventually the boy finds himself sitting alongside the bowl feeding the large feline._

  
_When then the meat is gone and Carmilla’s hunger is quenched, the boy gets up to leave. He picks up his rod and scrambles out of the cage. He begins to leave but turns back to steal a look at the animal. Carmilla looks at him and nods her head. He does the same and leaves without another sound._

* * *

  
_The boy continues to feed Carmilla by hand before she gains her strength to eat by herself. He continues stay with her, watching her, as she eats. He often talks to her about things he needs to vent about. She learns that he is celebrating his twelfth birthday this coming winter. Carmilla also finds out that he ran away to the circus two years prior to get away from his abusive mother, he wishes to become a performer he would tell her._

  
_The boy never mentions his own name but has taken to calling Carmilla “Kitty”. He laughs after he first called her that repulsive name yet she finds his laugh welcoming. His laugh is soft and warming, not cold and filled with malice as her handler’s. The boy has started to smuggle in fresh meats for Carmilla in order for her to regain her former stature. He feeds her and in turn, Carmilla allows him to seek comfort with her._

  
_The boy sits on a foldable chair next to her cage. Carmilla sits with bits of lamb between her paws, licking her meal with a rough tongue. He’s telling her about the time he set the performers tent on fire and blamed it on the ringmaster’s negligence. He laughs at his own story._

  
_Carmilla finishes her meal, stands up and begins rubbing her body against the bars of the cage. He understands the message and makes his way to rub her sides. Her fur is healthy and shines with reflected light against his fingers as he streams them through the fur along her ribs._

  
_The rumbling of a purr escapes Carmilla as the boy pets her gently. His dark locks of hair fall into his face and cover his eyes. He brushes the hair from his face with his free hand before it joins the other. He focuses intently on the area next to her spine, her skin twitches under his hand and Carmilla closes her eyes._

  
_The sound of the tent flap opening and closes startles the young boy and he jumps. Suddenly Carmilla’s handler bursts into the tent and catches him with the large feline. His eyes widen and his mouth curls into a snarl as he launches forward to grab the boy by his hair to pull him away from the cage. The boy screams out in pain as the handler drags him to the ground to spit into his ear._

  
_“I knew it was you. I told ‘em, they didn’t believe me. Not a sweet boy like you. Stealing from us. Stealing from me,” he emphasises his words by slamming the boy’s head into the concrete floor, “to help this bitch!” The boy screams out again as his head comes into contact with the ground. The boy begs the large handler to stop._

  
_“You’re hurting me! Stop it, please stop.” The boy whines. The handler laughs and grips the boy’s hair tighter, his uneven nails dig mercilessly into the boys scalp. He tries to fight the handler off by hitting him with his free hands but it earns him a right hook to the gut, his own blood leaves an imprint on his once white vest._

  
_“Stop it you’re hurting me!” The handler mimics in a higher voice. He laughs again as he turns the boy to face Carmilla’s cage. Carmilla sees the boys bloodied and bruised face, one eye closed shut because of the black eye forming. She is clawing through the cage, teeth bared, trying to stop the scene unfolding in front of her. Her paws stretch out to reach the boy but they stand at a distance._

  
_The handler puts his mouth next to the boy’s ears and whispers, “I am going to beat you in front of your new friend and she’s going to watch.”_

  
_The boy cries out as the handler lifts him off the ground by his hair. The blood runs down his face from a cut along his brow, the right side of his face is bruised excessively and blood contrasts the purplish-black. The bulking form of the handler moves his hands to the boy’s throat and precedes to throw him against Carmilla’s cage. The impact breaks a few of his bones and he lies on the floor, motionless._

  
_Carmilla watches as the handler moves to the boy’s form with intent to cause more harm. His smile, full of malice and joy, is directed solely at the feline trapped in the cage, taunting her._

  
_Carmilla slowly feels her wall crash as she allows her inner beast to take hold of her body. Slowly her golden eyes turn a deep shade of amber and Carmilla slips away as her beast claims her body again. The feline wraps her mouth around the bars and pulls them from their wielded positions. The noise distracts her handler, he looks up as Carmilla launches herself at the man. His eyes widen as he crashes to the floor with the large animal on top of him, crushing him, suffocating him. He tries to scramble from under her but her body is too heavy for him to break free._

  
_Carmilla fights her natural instinct to go for his throat to end his life quickly. She wants to prolong this as much as she can. Instead she unsheathes her claws and rakes them along his chest, threatening to rip his body apart. He screams and wiggles his right arm free in order to land a blow to her muzzle. The blow is successful and Carmilla pulls her body off him slightly, just enough to allow him to crawl out from under her and run. He frantically makes a mad dash for the opening of the tent in order to escape._

  
_Carmilla bounds after him and he yelps as she manages to snag his left foot, bringing him down like a large animal. He claws at the ground as she holds his foot in her mouth and drags him back to her cage. His fingers become bloody as his attempts to get away fail._

  
_He flips his body onto his back and kicks at Carmilla with his right leg. She drops his foot and allows him to scramble away like an injured deer. His left foot drags behind him as he limps to the exit but Carmilla doesn’t let him get that far. She pounces on him again, hanging onto his back with her arms wrapped around his torso, and digs her large canines into his shoulder through his jacket. He screams in pain as she drags him down again._

  
_She drags him back and lies him on the floor. As his back hits the floor, he aims another kick to her face but she springs back in time to miss it. He looks at her with a tear streaked face and begs her to stop. Carmilla looks at him and begins to stalk back towards him. He cries as he tries to shuffle on his backside to get away from her. He stretches his arms in front of him with out-stretched fingers, begging her to stop. Carmilla lunges at his arm and places it between her powerful jaws, sinking her teeth into soft flesh as she makes a raking movement along his bare arm._

  
_He screams as her teeth make large gashes along his arm, tearing more flesh as she bites down harder. She releases his arm and he jerks it back to clutch it desperately against his chest. His white shirt absorbs the free flowing blood as he whimpers like a kicked dog, his leather jacket is now torn and patched with dried blood. He looks up at the beast that attacked him, her eyes are fixed on him and her pupils are slits. Her teeth are bared in a smile, his blood drips onto the ground off her chin and her soaked fur sticks in clumps around her face. She advances to tear into his shoulder again. She lunches herself at him and bites into the muscle over her shoulder._

  
_She shakes her head with his shoulder firmly between her jaws, she lets him go then bites back into a different place, tearing into previously unscarred skin. She shakes violently and tries to pull chunks off of his shoulder. His muscles tear from his body and his flesh starts to dislodge. His persistent screaming should have alerted the attention of some of the other circus performers and circus hands. However, Carmilla can’t bring herself to care as she slowly rips him apart._

  
_His eyes start to close as he slips into unconsciousness. Carmilla releases his shoulder and tries to keep him awake for what’s about to happen next. She latches her jaws around his throat and presses them together. His eyes shoot open and look into her own, pleading her to stop. She bites harder._

  
_His strangled noises stop and his whole body goes limp. It sags from Carmilla’s jaw and she releases his lifeless body. It drops to the floor as dead weight and she rises off the ground to stand over him. The ground around his body is saturated in shades of red, seeping into the earth. As Carmilla looks around she can see trails of blood leading from the cage to the exit and to where she is standing._

  
_Carmilla makes her way to the cage, to where the boy’s unmoving body lies in the dirt. She nuzzles his face, drawing in the scent of her dearest friend. His body is still warm, as if the blood still flows through his veins. She allowed herself to get close to him, she is responsible for his death. It is all her fault._

  
_Her ears perk up and the shouting sounds from outside echo about the tent. She runs away from the grizzly scene. She runs out the tent and runs as fast as her legs will allow. She runs down the dirt roads leading away from the circus, she runs into the woods and she hides in the mass growth of trees and vegetation. She hides from them, from the ghost of the boy whose beaten face haunts her and she runs from herself._

  
_From the monster she has become._

  
_Carmilla hasn’t stood on solid ground in a century. Her human form is probably hiding from her too._

  
_Carmilla sits in the wet dirt, wondering what her human form would look like now, possibly cowering from the light. She would never know. The beast taps gently at its own cage, humming to itself. She will flip the switch, to no longer feel anything._

  
_So she does. She flips the switch off with a click and the world darkens._

 

* * *

  
**_3 years ago_ **

_Date: Unknown._

_Location: Styria, Austria._

_Owner: Nathan’s Magical traveling Circus._

_Form: Animal_

_Mental State: None._

  
_“You know I dislike circuses Danika. Yet here we both are. LaFontaine put you up to this, didn’t they?” Perry scolds the girl. Danika looks at the ground in shame and nods. Perry rolls her eyes at the thought of what LaFontaine could possibly have over this young girl in order to get her to do this._

  
_They walk through the stalls of a variety of acts and people with rare deformities. Danika leads Perry through the crowd and brings her to a large cage. Inside is a panther, larger than most, paces behind the cage bars. Its tail flicks in a series of directions before it growls at a couple that wanders too close._

  
_“Remarkable. This cat is huge, and the magical properties it emits is simply fantastic. Danika this is incredible.” Perry studies the animal, documenting her observations in a journal. Kirsch approaches the two girls with a massive swirl of dyed cotton candy and a blue mouth._

  
_“I know right. Dan-bro found her yesterday when we came to visit. Man, this cat has problems with children. This one kid almost got their fingers bitten off ‘cause they stuck them in her cage.” Kirsch, now seventeen years of age with a clean shaven face, sticks a tuff of blue cotton candy into his mouth. He offers the large swirl to the girls, Danika grabs a tuff whereas Perry declines his offer. Kirsch just shrugs and takes another piece for himself._

  
_“Old magic. This cat practically hums with old magic. Can’t you feel that?” Kirsch and Danika both shake their heads._

  
_“I can.” A man’s voice calls out from behind them. They turn to see a man in a suit and tie walking to join them. His hair is combed to the side and he smells heavily of aftershave._

  
_“That’s why she is here. That’s why you’re here.” His smile is unsettling._

  
_“Excuse me?”_

  
_“I contacted your associate, LaFontaine was it? Well, I contacted your department and informed them of this. They recommended you, so I accepted.” He waves his hands in the general direction of the feline. The panther hisses._

  
_“You see Miss Perry, I need someone with your… Talents. I have been lead to believe that this animal is not an animal at all. A human who has taken the form of a panther. A ‘Shape-shifter’ if you will.”_

  
_“Shape-shifter? That is ridiculous! Who might you be anyway?” The man pulls out a business card and hands it to her._

  
_“Nathan Cortez, owner of Nathan’s Magical Traveling Circus. You and I both know that Shape-shifters are not creatures of fiction Miss Perry. You said it yourself, this animal emits old magic. The type of magic harnessed by Shape-shifters.”_

  
_Perry glances at his card then back at him. His smile, fixed in place, makes Perry uneasy, but if he is right then this panther could be the greatest thing known to the magic community in Styria._

  
_“What do you need me to do?”_

  
_His smile grows._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is everyone. I'm actually working on a Cop!Laura fic right now and I would like to know if that sort of thing would interest you. So let me know if I should go ahead or scrap the idea.
> 
> Next chapter will be a continuation of this one. So two flashback chapters just for you to read and get an idea of Carmilla’s past.
> 
> Please don't forget to comment and kudo's are highly appreciated.


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